“Yes.”
The trainer’s expression changed slightly.
He looked at Cole’s left knee, then back at his face.
“Did you serve overseas?”
Cole felt the old tension return.
“Why do you ask?”
Raymond opened his mouth, but Derek interrupted.
“Because apparently every guy with gray hair and a limp has a mysterious past.”
He turned toward the other fighters.
“Friday night, everybody. Bring your friends. You’re going to watch me teach somebody a lesson.”
Cole looked at Derek one last time.
“You should cancel it.”
“Scared?”
“I’m giving you an opportunity to change your mind.”
Derek stepped closer.
“Five minutes. Don’t forget.”
Cole left without answering.
Outside, he sat in his truck and gripped the steering wheel.
He had spent years making sure his past remained in the past.
He had changed jobs, moved neighborhoods, and avoided conversations about his service. He didn’t wear his old uniform to public events. He didn’t tell war stories at parties.
